My Special Day
by samanddianefan10
Summary: Janitor feels forgotten about on his birthday, which isn't helped by his encounters with Sacred Heart staff members. What makes him feel better?


Today was my birthday. It was just another day at Sacred Heart. Whiney Boy was chasing Angry Doctor. Blonde Doctor was leaning on the nurses' counter, talking about yet another escapade with unmemorable boyfriend. Keith, I think his name was. But who's keeping score? I knew that because as usual, I knew more than my share of the hospital gossip. Not that it wasn't much of a secret. She and Keith did not try very hard to keep their relationship hidden, although sometimes I wish that they would, for personal reasons that had best go unspoken. She can do much better, although I doubt that she would consider the opinion of a janitor when making a decision regarding her personal life. I don't see why my career choice would lessen the impact of my advice, considering that I happen to be of the gender that she has so much trouble with. But that's just the way this cruel world works, and I've learned to accept it. So I just pick up my mop and go with the flow.

I look over and I see that Blonde Doctor is panicking while Scary Nurse listens to her. She's good at that, at least to her friends. So I just stand there and mop the same spot on the floor while pretending not to listen. Of course, I do. I can't help myself.

"So, Carla, do I tell him that I don't like it when he brings me flowers? I really appreciate the thought but I just don't know if I'm ready for that kind of commitment. I mean, my God, they're flowers! Not just any old flowers. They're roses. He might as well have told me he loved me. And the next thing you know he'll be expecting me to move in with him and then pick out our bedroom curtains. And how am I supposed to do that? I don't even know what I'm having for dinner tonight! What does he want from me? Frick, this wasn't supposed to happen! He has no clue."

Scary Nurse spoke up. "Calm down. You said it yourself. He doesn't know what he's doing. I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it. He just wanted to do something sweet. That's all. I can't think of the last time Turk bought me flowers. Well there was the time I caught him giving the Todd a 'just got some five' and I threw those flowers in the trash. Elliot, they're just flowers. He just bought them for you for no reason. He was thinking of you. That's all there was to it. He's not pressuring you. He likes you. He just wanted to surprise you."

Surprise. It's not like anyone wanted to surprise me. It's not like today was my birthday…that's right, it was. Blonde Doctor was complaining because someone had actually taken the time to get her something. The nerve of her boyfriend, taking time out of his busy schedule to let her know he was thinking of her. I had actually sent myself a bottle of sanitizer.

"And do you know what else he did? Yesterday he picked me up some chicken al fredo. I specifically told him I was in the mood to cook some pasta. Cook! I wanted to cook so what does he do? He picks up dinner instead. So I have to spend the whole evening just doing…nothing. Well, that's not true. I got to pull out my text book and get caught up on some studying. But why would he buy me dinner? What's the meaning of it?"

"Poor baby." Carla stroked Elliot's hair, while I thought about the Hot Pockets I was going to eat for lunch. You know, I can't remember the last time someone brought me home anything for dinner. Images of the squirrel army wearing tiny sombreros toting enchiladas flashed through my mind. I really have to have to have a talk with them.

I kept on mopping and who did I run into but Scooter and his BFF? (Don't ask me how or why I know these things.)

"I'm telling you Chocolate Bear, it was him."

"It was who?" I asked.

"Colonel Doctor. Turk doesn't believe me but I saw him doing the Funky Chicken in the break room. Tell me I could mistake something like that."

"You're mistaken." Scooter made it too easy sometimes.

"How would you know? You weren't even there."

"I was there. You just didn't see me."

"Oh, I see you. That's the problem. You're everywhere. I don't know how you do it but every time I turn around you're there. Don't you have a job to do?"

"Vanilla Bear. Let it go. We've got other things to do, man. Take it easy, Cleaning Man."

And the two men took off. Just like that. Just when I was getting started. I don't ask for that much. Just let me get my two cents in now and then. Cleaning Man? Is that all that I was to them? After all of this time they still didn't know my name. I didn't want them to, but that was beside the point. Still, Scooter wouldn't stick around and let me have my fun. Some birthday.

"This is going to be a long one." I said to myself.

"Speaking of long ones, guess what I have in my pocket?" Todd raced up to me. "Innuendo high five?" he placed his hand in the air.

Why should I give him anything? What did he do for my birthday? "No, Todd. No five. Now go. Bye."

"Aww."

I shook my head. This place was getting to me. I am more than the man you call when the kid on the third floor has lost his lunch. I'm more than the man who spends an hour scrubbing Jesus Loves You off the restroom wall. I like hanging with my friends (who apparently did not know what today was). I like sitting back and having a good time. Just because my idea of a good time involves Cheetos and safety pins doesn't mean that I'm not a fun-type of guy. Certainly my day has more meaning than scrubbing toilets. What it is, I don't exactly know at the moment.

Suddenly a bald-headed, pasty, semi-sweaty lawyer, known as Ted, spoke into his cell phone.

"Oh no, Mom. Don't tell me you did it again! How did you get your foot caught under the mattress of the bed? You know I'm not there to prevent that sort of thing. And it's the bad one too, the one with the bunion? Gee, Mom, don't panic. You know I can't stand it when you talk like that. You'll get me…what do you mean use my calm voice? This is my calm voice."

He slammed the phone down and looked at me sadly. "Why, sweet liver and onions, do these things happen to me? Why? Why?"

All of a sudden the meaning of my day became clear. Maybe no one remembered my birthday. Maybe no one knew my name. Maybe I wouldn't get asked out along with the guys for a drink after work tonight. But being me sure beats being that guy, any day. Happy birthday, me.


End file.
